Another hazy day unfolding outside, the hills murky blue in the distance, the wander up towards elephant mountain postponed again. But it's Sunday, it'll be busy up there and despite the restlessness and occasional feelings of isolation there's a desire for some kind of solitude within movement, a space to think but outwith the confines of the walls.


I decide upon another cycle, head back into the centre, similar scenes to yesterday but I change my route, there's no hurry and there's a camera around my neck, so into the alleys passing high end shops selling names and images to the wealthy and aspirational. But today the only aspiration is to remain virus free, the pools of humanity which normally gather here are gone, leaving only a few remnant figures sitting upon benches and looking into screens, almost all of them in solitude. A little further, set in the middle of the pavement there are two music stands, no musicians and no score, something oddly symbolic but there's a falseness about them, as if someone has attempted symbolism but misunderstood; in my world there's little else with the power of music to heal and transform and each city carries it's own song or symphony, maybe at the moment it's muffled but it's still there, another movement happening if you just listen to it unfold.


Through the quiet I notice that most people are masked and, almost, everyone is keeping their distance from others as they walk. This morning I read an article somewhere online, posting the statement that, here, the main reason for the mask wearing is to minimise the chance that you will spread the virus, not as protection. I like the idea, it's why we're wearing them when we venture out, it's okay to risk yourself but the idea of putting others at risk because of your behaviour scunners me. Later, I read more articles about the feral numpties back in the UK, the disregard or disdain for the spreading virus, some kind of exceptionalism as if they're unaware that the safety net has been shredded over the last decade and it makes me wonder if, maybe, in times like these we find ourselves hardening our views, certain that those we care for are put at risk by the behaviour of the moronic minority.


But, here, things continue. Cases increase but seem to be imported and the government says that, maybe the policy will need to change, we'll see. And the sun burns in the west, a dirty orange orb caught in the haze as it descends towards the uncertain horizon.